


Payback is an ice cream covered Winchester

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Ice Cream, M/M, Payback, light punishment, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean decides a little retribution is in order...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Payback is an ice cream covered Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There's a severe lack of plot going on here, just another excuse to get the guys sticky and sweaty *grins* this is so totally wings128's fault-again, lol, and is inspired by the picture below :) and is a sequel to Recipe for success.
> 
>  

There's no way, no freaking way Dean's letting Sammy's little stunt with the ice cream slide, not when he's now incapable of looking a tub of frozen yogurt in the eye without getting a raging hard on.

Damn that kid.

How is it possible to make something so innocent so fucking hot?

Dean's been circling Sam for the last week trying to find a chink in his defences, a way passed those cat-like reflexes. The only way he can see he's going to get anywhere is by getting the guy drunk. Off his ass drunk. He'll never beat his little brother's hunter instincts otherwise.

It's all very well and good being at the top of their game, until it prevents a well deserved payback, then it's just a giant pain in the ass.

Dean's got his sights set on pinning Sammy down and destroying him, taking him apart piece by delicious piece until the only coherent thought in his over-grown Sasquatch of a brother's head is 'Fuck.Dean.More'.

It's only fair, since Sam completely ruined him with a couple of mouthfuls of something Dean wouldn't usually be seen dead buying.

The final piece of the puzzle slotted into place three days ago when they stopped in some random roadside store and Dean laid eyes on a box of 'Ice cream Sammies'. I mean come on, how many opportunities do you get to wrap your tongue around two sets of Sammie's at the same time?

He imagines they'll be equally as sweet and something tells him Sam's reaction will be well worth the cavity warning on the box.

The very thought of Sam; wrists tethered, fingers flexing, shoulders straining against hunter tight restraints, makes Dean's breath catch in his throat, his heart hammer behind his ribs.

He'd never say it out loud, he's so _not_ **that** guy, but there is nothing more stunning than Sammy going full tilt, making noises that no human should be capable of, thigh muscles twitching against Dean's cheeks as he buries his face between his brother's legs.

Shaking himself, stamping down on the urge to jump Sam in the car, Dean grins and taps his brother on the shoulder, "Fancy a night in? It's been ages since we chilled out with a bottle of something nasty and a bad movie?"

Sam stops scribbling in his journal and smiles at Dean, "Yeah sure, could do with a night off."

Dean chuckles to himself and mentally maps out the rest of his plan.

~^~

"Wha'd'ya mean I'm a lightweight...I'm not that bad!"

Sam shakes his head and tries to make the two Dean's he's staring at stop whirling around the room, "I mean I'm betterer than I was."

Dean laughs and shoves at Sam's shoulder, "Yeah sure, you're a regular bar fly. You're not spinning on the spot at all..."

Sam slumps against the back of the sofa and closes his eyes before realising what a dumb assed move that was, "Jeez, where did you get that stuff, I wouldn't clean Baby's engine bay with that, it's evil."

Dean watches Sam try and orientate himself whilst pretending to take another swig of the ten dollar gut rot he picked up specifically for it's high alcohol content, "Off licence down the road, it's not like we've got excess amounts of cash to throw around."

Sam flings his arms out and tries to lever himself out of the man eating couch, "Fair point. De...I think I might be slightly drunk."

Dean chuckles and slips off the couch before hooking his hands under Sam's arms, "No shit Sherlock."

Yanking Sam up and keeping on his own feet isn't exactly easy, Dean's only been pretending every other mouthful, so he's plenty lubricated himself, but the noises Sam's making are having their usual effect and Dean can feel himself hardening as his brother struggles against him, "Jesus Sammy, when did you get so god damned heavy! Stop wriggling."

Sam pinches the tip of his tongue between his teeth, waggles his eyebrows and giggles, "Thought you liked it when I wriggled..."

Dean grins to himself and shunts Sam towards the bed. Yep, definitely drunk. Sam only ever giggles when he's passed the point of no return. When his head's going to feel like cotton wool in the morning. Good, "Come on Gigantor, let's get you comfy."

Sam lets Dean shove him across the room before wind milling his arms when his brother lets him drop like a rock on top of the covers, "Ouch, Jerk!"

Dean rolls Sammy onto his back and flicks him on the ear, "Bitch. I could've just let you drool on the arm of the couch, show a little respect."

Sam snuggles down into the comforter and tries not to imagine what might be lurking unseen on the sheets, "You're a regular prince charming."

Dean shakes his head, laughs and pokes Sam in the chest, "And don't you forget it princess."

The last thing Sam hears is Dean rummaging around in his duffel before he passes out.

~^~

The younger Winchester comes awake slowly, fighting his way through layers of hangover induced fog and fractured images of Dean having to lay him out on the bed because he could no longer feel his feet. There's a vindictive little beast trying to jack hammer his way to freedom from inside Sam's skull and he thinks the phrase splitting headache has never been quite so apt.

Man, what was in that scotch!

"Wakey wakey Sammy boy."

Sam groans and tries to wipe the sleep from his eyes but he can't make his hand go where he wants. It takes him a second but he soon realises the itch of rough rope circling his wrists might have something to do with his lack of ability to move, "What the f..."

Despite the very real threat of spontaneous neural combustion if he opens his eyes, Sam cracks a lid and searches for the source of severe smugness that is his big brother's voice. He finds him perched on the foot of the bed, shit eating grin firmly fixed, chin resting on his balled fist, "De...why am I...no, sorry wait, why the _fuck_ am I tied to the bed!"

Dean watches Sam yank on the ropes wrapping his ankles and wrists and smirks before leaning down and retrieving his prize from beside the bed.

Quirking an eyebrow, letting the corner of his mouth curve up ever so slightly, Dean lays the box of frozen treats between Sam's tethered legs and waits for his baby brother's reaction.

Sam stops struggling for a second and tries to read the writing on the box between his feet. Considering just tilting his head is practically impossible without feeling the burn between his over stretched shoulder blades, it takes him a moment to focus on the words. When he finally manages to translate what his whiskey soaked brain is seeing he grunts and glares at his brother, "Ice Cream Sammies...Really!"

Dean stands away from the bed dragging the box of sweets with him before tearing off the cardboard strip and unwrapping one, "Payback's a bitch Sam."

Sam goes back to twisting his wrists until he realises Dean's used self tightening slip knots and he's only making the rope binding him even tighter, "Payback for what?"

Dean tutts at his brother and leans over him with the slowly melting ice cream goodness, "Oh I don't know, maybe for turning me into a horny teenager, perhaps for the fact that my jeans gets stupidly tight every time I see a tub of frozen yogurt anywhere. Think it's about time you got a taste of your own medicine, don't you..."

Dean's jeans are slung low over his hips and Sam can see he isn't wearing any boxer shorts and is already half hard if the bulge in the denim covering his crotch is anything to go by, "But...I...you were...Shit."

It's no good trying to pretend he isn't effected, because Sam knows Dean knows exactly how much he likes having control taken away. It's one of their shared kinks.

They spend so many hours every day being the ones issuing orders that once in a while they like to give up that hard held control, and the only person either one of them has ever felt safe enough to do that with is the other.

Dean watches the heat and shadow crowd in behind Sam's eyes and smirks again before letting ice cold drips spatter against his brother's bare chest, "Come on Sammy, don't tell me you don't wanna feel your cock sliding down my throat covered in ice cream, 'cause I'm betting by his reaction, you'd be lying your ass off."

Sam follows Dean's line of sight and watches his own cock hardening and twitching against his belly and swallows past the lump in his throat.

His skin's so hot that every time a droplet of ice cream hits his chest he jumps and shudders automatically, "De...don't be a tease."

Dean twists the top biscuit away from the ice cream and raises it to his lips before running the tip of his tongue through the sticky mess, "Because you never tortured me with that frozen yogurt..."

Sam's eyes close and he groans at the memory of Dean's unique flavour mixed with that of the tart blueberries, "Nrgghh."

"Sammy, open your eyes."

Sam tilts his head and forces his eyes open and is met with the sight of Dean slowly unbuttoning his fly and sliding his jeans down over his hips, exposing endless expanses of tanned, muscled thighs to his hungry gaze.

He pulls against the restraints holding him in place until there's a fine sheen of sweat coating every inch of his skin. He'd give anything to be able to run his hands up along the line of Dean's thighs, feel the sharp jut of his hips biting into his palms as he digs his nails into soft flesh, "Please..."

Dean crawls up onto the bed between Sam's spread legs before laying himself completely flat. Hips bucking slightly as his hard seeping cock drags against the covers, he digs two fingers into the topless ice cream and slides them between his brother's ass cheeks.

Allowing the ragged edges of his nails to catch against tight twitching muscles, Dean licks a mouthful of ice cream onto his tongue and flattens it against the curve of Sam's balls.

Sam arches so far off the bed he hears the headboard creek before the ropes snap him backwards, "Fuck!"

Dean chuckles and shunts further forward so his nose is nestled in thick curls and begins mouthing at Sam's tender sac. Forcing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Dean sucks soft skin between his teeth and hollows his cheeks.

Sam's never had anyone touch him like this, not properly. Jess tried, once, but the sensation was so strange he'd asked her to stop.

Dean is infinitely gentler than she'd been and is alternating between nipping at the base of his cock and sucking sensitive heated flesh into his mouth and it sends shock waves of pleasure mixed with tiny sparks of pain shooting along every nerve ending until Sam's not sure whether he wants to cry or come.

Once Sam starts writhing against Dean's mouth, the older man knows he can push his luck a little. His brother's always been the same; his inhibitions slowly but surely disappear the more turned on he gets and eventually he ends up sounding like a breathy porn star begging to be banged by every guy at the orgy.

Dean stops mouthing at Sam's balls and turns his attention to his brother's touch deprived cock, "Want me to swallow you whole Sammy?"

Hands balled into fists, knuckles white, rope gouging deep grooves into his wrists, Sam groans and throws his head from side to side, "Fuck, De...don't be a dick!"

Taking Sam's lust fuelled sarcasm as a yes, Dean snags a palm full of ice cream and grips his brother's cock before engulfing him in his hot wet mouth.

Dean suddenly understands what Sammy meant when he'd tried explaining the combination of flavours after he'd attacked him with that frozen yogurt.

His brother's scent and taste has always been sharp and crisp, like sunrise on the first day of spring. Add in the overt sweetness of the ice cream and Dean thinks he could happily dine on Sam for the rest of his life and never get full.

Sam bucks up into Dean's mouth, fucking his brother's throat, and plants his feet flat against the bed to try and get more leverage.

Dean's always been fucking amazing with his mouth and not being able to twist his fingers in short spiky hair only adds to Sam's frenzied need to bury himself balls deep, "De..I need, I want...Ride me, please."

Dean smiles round Sam's twitching cock and pulls off with a tiny 'pop'. Licking his lips, savouring the salty tang of Sam on his tongue, Dean unwraps another ice cream treat and crawls up Sam's pinned body, "Wanna watch me fuck myself on your cock Sam, that it? Want me to ride you 'til your legs buckle and your eyes roll up..."

Sam watches Dean hover above him and nods once, "Want to touch..."

Dean shakes his head and stands up on the bed. Steadying himself against the wall, he plants his feet either side of Sam's arms so he knows his brother can see what he's about to do, "No. You can watch, that's it. If you're lucky I might sink onto you..."

Sam's whole body is convulsing on the bed, shivering and shuddering and twitching like he's got an electric current running through him. He's not sure if he's on the verge of losing it or passing out but he knows when Dean uses that tone of voice there's no arguing, "Yes Dean."

Dean smiles down at Sam, scoops the entire sandwich's ice cream filling onto his fingers and throws the biscuits away before bracing an elbow against the wall. Arching his back, spreading his feet as wide as he can without falling off the bed, he reaches between his legs and starts working himself open.

Sam grunts and strains against the ropes holding him.

Watching Dean finger himself like this is exquisite torture. There's nothing he loves better than watching his brother ready himself, the fact he can't touch himself or Dean is driving him crazy. His cock is so hard that he's not sure if there's any blood any where else in his body except he can hear it rushing along his veins, "God, Dean, so hot, so fucking hot."

Dean leans his forehead against the wall and presses his fingers, still coated in ice cream, passed his tight ring of muscles, "Sammy I'm so tight, so fucking tight and I can feel you, your tongue, your cock."

Rivulets of ice cream are running down Dean's inner thighs and dripping onto Sam's face and he snakes his tongue out, hoping to catch a taste, "Fuck, that's it De...another finger, god another finger, please."

Dean fucks his hand, hips bucking, shaking the bed dangerously. Scissoring his fingers inside his ass he twists his wrist, adds his thumb, widening himself far enough to slide all the way down to his knuckles.

Sam's entire body is vibrating. His cock is twitching in time with Dean's fingers disappearing and he thinks if he doesn't get to touch his brother somewhere, anywhere, he's going to literally implode, "De... _please!_ "

Dean's breath is coming in short ragged gasps and he knows he's not far from losing it completely, even without touching his own weeping pulsing cock. As much as he'd love to blow his load over Sammy's chiseled cheeks, he needs to feel himself being filled so steps away from the wall and lowers himself over his brother's sweat soaked body, "Please what?"

"Please ride me Dean."

Dean grins and leans down far enough to nip at Sam's bottom lip but pulls away before his brother can deepen the kiss, "Seen as you asked so nicely..."

Gripping Sam's cock in his still sticky palm, Dean guides himself onto his brother's salt slicked tip before shallow fucking himself, letting his hips rock rhythmically.

Sam's eyes close and he chews on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from begging again. It's not enough, it's never enough, "De..."

Dean uses Sam's heaving chest to steady himself and starts slowly sliding the full length of the jerking cock now nestled snug and full inside his twitching ass, "Ready?"

"For wha..." Sam cries out as Dean violently shoves himself all the way to the base of his cock, "Fuck me!"

Dean grits his teeth and maintains his punishing tempo, pushing Sam and himself closer to the edge, "Technically no...Jesus"

Sam watches Dean's cock bob so close in front of his face that he can smell the salty tang of pre-come drizzling down the side of his brother's shaft and his mouth waters so badly he thinks he may actually choke, "De...let me have one hand, just one.."

Dean reaches up and tugs the knot free but grips Sam's wrist before he can take him in hand, "Together."

Sam practically sobs with the need to touch his brother but nods and laces his finger's with Dean's.

The familiar weight of Dean's cock in his palm is enough to have his eyes rolling up in his head and Sam grinds his teeth to stave off the orgasm he knows is going to rip through him any minute, "De...I'm gonna...With me, gotta come with me."

The raw need in Sam's voice and the throbbing cock buried deep in his ass shunts Dean off the edge. It only takes their joined hands three pumps before he's spilling himself across his baby boy's chest.

Dean's muscles tightening around his aching cock pulls Sam right over the edge with his brother and he howls out his orgasm, "Fuck. De...I'm coming."

Dean collapses forward onto Sam's chest, not giving a flying fuck about the sticky mix of come and melted ice cream. Heaving for breath, desperately trying to stay conscious, he hears Sam suck in a breath before he feels a large hand cup the back of his head.

Sam cards his fingers through short hair and chuckles, "Fucking hell De...remind me to earn payback more often."

Dean twists sideways and nestles under Sam's free arm before slinging a leg over his still tied down thigh, "Push me Sasquatch and you'll still be laid here tomorrow morning."

Sam hides his smirk in Dean's hair and wills his brother not to notice his body's reaction to the threat, "Yes sir."


End file.
